


Out of the Cold

by TheSpaceCoyote



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hypothermia, Jack has to save him, Keeping warm, M/M, Rhys gets lost in the snow, thats mostly it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 16:45:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13127595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: After a small fight about skating in which he storms out of Jack's mountainside mansion, Rhys gets stuck outside in the cold due to a sudden snowstorm, prompting Jack to forge out into the coming night to find him.





	Out of the Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Gift for technicolorcatharsis on Tumblr! This got a little away from me haha. Merry Christmas!

It had been Rhys’ first time staying at Jack’s winter home.

Jack, personally, had thought the designation a little unneeded. He had about a dozen homes spread across the country and even into others, and he was fairly sure at least some of them were currently also being barraged with icy temperatures and flurries of snow. But, to be fair, this home had probably been the most classically _quaint_ out of all of them. When the words “winter home” were spoken aloud, the image that flashed through most people’s minds probably matched up fairly well with the picturesque villa Jack had had built in the fancy, secluded ski town.

The CEO had been pretty damn excited to bring his boyfriend to his house for the first time. Rhys was the kind of guy to get easily dazzled by even the simplest of luxuries, which really helped to make Jack feel like a big man. A moderately fancy dinner or a domestic flight to some cosmopolitan part of the country was more than enough to make his head spin, so surely the rustic little mansion would knock it out of the park.

He’d figured they would hang around the house, cooking and eating and drinking and screwing, then maybe spend a bit of time shopping around the village just a short drive down the mountain. He hadn’t really made many plans for anything else—but, _apparently_ , Rhys had.

He’d been resting on the couch, flicking through the various channels both local and cable, when Rhys had trudged down from the stairs, fully dressed in winter clothes and with a pair of unfamiliar blue skates dangling from his hand.

Jack had raised his eyebrow, lips pursed in puzzlement.

“What you up to, kiddo?” Rhys had smiled, cheeks tinged pink in excitement.

“I noticed a big pond through the trees as we were pulling up, I thought we could go skating.”

“….Skating? Oh, _kiddo_ ,” Jack had snorted, perhaps a little too derisively, in retrospect. He should have changed his tune when he’d watched Rhys’ face fall slightly, but _no_. He’d had to _escalate_.

“It’s safe to say _I_ can’t skate for shit, but I can’t believe you’d think you could….especially on a _lake_. It’s not a groomed skating rink down at the mall, powderpuff,” he’d waved Rhys off, recognizing the sour pout that Rhys put on every time he didn’t get his way but missing the genuinely upset twitch in his eyes.

“Well, _fine_. You know what? I’m going to go alone,” Rhys had growled, hefting the laced skates over his forearm before wrapping a scarf so tight about his neck Jack had been almost sure his pissy little head would pop off.

“You seriously that grumpy ‘cause I don’t wanna skate with you? Correction—don’t wanna fall on my ass while also watching you fall on your ass.”

“Ha _ha_ ,” Rhys had spat bitterly as he thrusted the door open, the cold hinges creaking against the wood, “I’ll be sure to send you plenty of pictures of me _totally ruling_ out on the ice. Then you’ll be sorry.”

“Uh huh. Try not to freeze to death.” Jack had murmured idly, waving his hand in the air. The door slam that followed had practically rocked his entire mansion—damn, kid really had an arm, didn’t he?

Jack had tried to put the whole mini-fight out of his mind, figuring that a little bit of ice would go a long way to cool Rhys’ temper and temper his ego. So he’d put his feet up, set the temperature to a toasty eighty degrees, and turned on some crappy reality show about naked people surviving in the wilderness.

Which, of course, he’d ended up falling asleep during. He just wasn’t particularly interested in anything where the nude bits were blurred. Eventually, he snorted himself awake, nearly knocking the remote off the arm of the chair as he started. He’d blinked a couple of times, clearing the fuzziness from his eyes as he smacked his lips. _Ugh_. Dry mouth. The altitude always got to him like that.

He shut off the TV—now playing some kind of pawn shop show he was even _less_ interested in—and squinted towards the digital display on the DVR.

_5:08pm._

Hell. He’d been asleep for three hours? If he didn’t move quick, they were gonna miss their dinner reservations.

“Rhysie?” Jack called out as he fumbled to his feet, thoughts already spinning to the suit he’d had all neat and pressed hanging up in the closet because his boyfriend was always bugging him to wear something _nice_ instead of the same old sweater and jeans. Even though that sweater and those jeans had seen him through some tough times and sticky situations. Ugh. Rhys just didn’t _get_ it—kid practically insisted on a fresh new wardrobe every couple months or so.

“ _Puuuuumpkin_?” Jack called, voice taking on an obnoxiously syrupy tone as he ambled through the house. He peeked his head over the corner into the kitchen, expecting to find Rhys’ warming up with some hot chocolate or snacking on something from inside the fully stocked fridge, but he found nothing. His brows furrowed. _Huh_.

“You taking a dump or something?” Jack hollered as he thumped up the stairs, but the bathroom light was off. Puzzled, Jack crept into the master bedroom, but that was dark as well. He was on his guard, sure Rhys was going to pop out from the closet and prank him, or grab his ankles, but a quick check through the racks of clothes and under the bed told him that wasn’t the case.

The windows rattled slightly, the wind rustling harder outside. The grey light of the sun passing through the clouds had long dipped to a deeper blue. The porch light outside illuminated the flaking snow. It was really started to come down.

It was starting to come down, and as far as Jack could see, Rhys wasn’t in the house.

Jack tried to rationalize it. Maybe the kid had decided to take the car down to the village to get a snack or something. Except he’d brought the BMW and Rhysie couldn’t drive stick.

Jack didn’t like to worry. He liked feeling in control of the situation, and worry pierced a hole in that. Usually he solved the problem by just not caring about anyone—a method of coping he’d picked up after the second ex-wife—but he’d ended up letting Rhys in. Like an idiot.

And now Rhys was out in the snow, had been out in the snow for _hours_ with a blizzard building and despite the fact that Jack had splurged to set up his own WiFi network that stretched over the entirety of the ground he hadn’t gotten any kind of message from Rhys.

Maybe the kid was just mad at him. Maybe he’d gotten caught up with skating and just lost track of time. But with the sleet starting to lash against the window, Jack couldn’t take the chance.

He thundered down the stairs, sparing a moment to throw on his heavy snow-boots and down jacket, before forcing open the door and trudging out into the thick snow. The wind quickly blew the door shut behind him, stained glass front windows shuddering.

Jack crossed his arms tightly around his chest, shoving his hands into his armpits as he forged ahead in the direction of the frozen lake, hoping that Rhys was still there and hadn’t ended up wandering off. If he had, but was safe, Jack would feel like an idiot. But if he had, and was in _trouble_ , then well…

He didn’t want to think about that too hard, but he still mentally put the local cops on speed dial.

The wind continued to tug at his clothes, his hair already dusted with a fine layer of snowflakes. The sun had long died over the mountaintops, only the faintest glow of purple shining from behind the thick clouds. The moon had started to crest in the sky but it barely illuminated the ground at all. Jack would have to work quickly.

“Rhys! Rhysie!” Jack cupped his gloved hands around his mouth, calling out and hoping his voice carried over the howling wind. Any tracks Rhys might have been made were covered up from the recent snowfall, leaving him stalking practically blind in hopes he would come across his boyfriend safe and sound. He pushed through the thicket of pine that separated his house from the lake, careful to avoid any snow buildup around the trees, heart leaping and clenching simultaneously as he saw the reflection of the icy pond.If Rhys had fallen in somewhere…

It would already be way too late.

Jack called and called as he got closer, his voice strained by the time he entered the clearing rimming the lake. He scanned the banks, trying to find a sign that Rhys had been there, when a faint cry suddenly answered him.

“ _J-Jack_ …!”

He took off in the direction of the noise, striding down the snowy bank. Nearby one particularly large pine tree, he could make out a small, blotchy shape that cleared as he ran in closer.

Rhys had fallen into a spruce trap. The snow had swallowed him up to his elbows, his shoulders and head powdered with snow. Jack scrambled towards him, careful of the loose snow himself as he trekked up to where his boyfriend was buried.

“H-Hang on, kiddo, lemme get you outta there,” Jack grunted as he started to scoop at the snow around Rhys’ trapped body, clearing away handfuls of powder and packed ice. He dug a well around Rhys’ torso, working as quickly as he could. The snow, rough as it was, couldn’t keep pace with Jack as he dug down until he reached Rhys’ waist. Jack could see the snow crusted top of the man’s phone peeking out of his frozen pocket. No wonder Rhys’ couldn’t reach him. 

Once the top of Rhy’s hips were exposed, Jack wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and pulled, firmly but slowly. Damn the kid’s long-ass legs. They shuddered slightly, trying in vain too help but Jack could guess they were probably too cold and numb to be any use.

Christ. He was grateful that he’d been going to the gym lately, or else he wasn’t sure he’d be able to practically deadlift Rhys out of a deep bank of snow. He _almost_ wasn’t able to, but the pained, scared little whine that escaped Rhys’ chilly lips sent a spark of adrenaline through him that helped him yank Rhys out of his snowy prison and out onto the bank.

Jack patted snow off of Rhys’ body, gloved hands cupping the young man’s face. Rhys’ eyelids fluttered, snow still clinging to his lashes as he looked up at Jack. Little puffs of breath breezed path his lips. Christ. It was so frikkin’ _cold_.

“I know, I know, I’ve got you,” Jack murmured in answer to Rhys’ tiny, shaky little whimper as he hefted him up in arms. The older man cringed—kid felt like a frikkin’ _icicle_ against him.

Rhys was pale, but his lips still had a touch of pink to them and he was still shivering, not too far gone from the cold that his body wasn’t reacting to it. Jack was still worried, obviously, but at least the situation wasn’t _completely_ dire.

“All right, lets get you inside, ‘kay pumpkin? Get you into some warm pajamas with some nice hot cider. Sounds good?” Rhys lolled his head against Jack’s shoulder, mustering a little nod as he tried to speak. Jack didn’t like not hearing the kid’s sass. 

“U-Uh-huh,” Rhys’ teeth chattered together as he snuggled into Jack’s down jacket, mitted hands groping uselessly at the fabric. Jack nuzzled against Rhys’ snow-dusted hair as he hefted his boyfriend in his arms, rising to his feet.

“Stay awake for me, all right pumpkin? If you fall asleep, no hot chocolate,” Jack warned as he followed his rapidly-filling footsteps back through the woods. Rhys’ stiff legs swayed as Jack tramped through the snow with him in his arms, lanky form curled like a child’s inwards. Jack rested his chin atop Rhys’ head, keeping his boyfriend’s cold face tucked in near the warmth of his neck.

The warm lights of hearth seemed so far away, and as Jack trudged through the deepening banks he regretted making the grounds so damn big.

He rested Rhys’ tailbone on his hips, supporting him partially against the front door as he fumbled with the knob, thankful he hadn’t locked it as he shoved it open. The burst of war air that blessed his face sent a slightly-painful twinge through his skin, like he was jumping into a pool of boiling water.

“ _Ahh_ , oh my god,” Jack moaned as the door swings shut behind him, sealing in the heat. Rhys perked up a little at the change in temperature, his glassy eyes fluttering open a little wider as he raised his head.

“Don’t worry, cupcake, Jackie’s gonna take care of you, okay?” He assured as he rushed towards the couch, carefully laying Rhys down against the cushions before rushing to swipe through his phone to figure out what to do.

Thank god for Wikipedia.

He ripped off his own gloves, tossing them to the floor before he started stripping the cold, snow-stained clothes off of Rhys’ body. Even the long underwear and socks came off, leaving Rhys completely nude on the couch. Jack shoved away the discarded clothes into a dripping pile, unzipping his own jacket. He patted down his sweater—it was warm from his body heat, protected from the melting snow by the coverage of his jacket. Without a second thought, Jack pulled the garment up over his head.

“And you badmouthed this old thing…” he chuckled softly as he carefully maneuvered Rhys into the sweater, not yet bothering to get the boy’s stiff arms through the holes.

“Sit tight, kiddo, I’m gonna get you some more blankets…” Jack patted his boyfriend’s hair, melted frost clinging to his fingers as he rushes to the closet, piling spare comforters and wool blankets in his arms. He had no electric blankets, but managed to find a couple hot water bottles tucked away on the shelves. He set a pot to boil on the stove, before returning to Rhys’ side.

“These’ll help you out some, sweetie. Right now you’re like an icicle. A Rhysie-pop.” Jack started to pile the blankets on top of Rhys, tucking the first wool blanket around his naked body before layering up on the comforters. Before long Rhys was nice and bundled, little head popping out from the massive, plush cocoon. Jack got on his knees besides his head, petting the warm, damp hair off of his forehead.

Rhys’ eyelids flickered, movements steadily growing more purpose as he moaned, turning his head to the side in the direction of Jack’s hand. A relief little smile curled Jack’s lips as Rhys’ eyes fluttered open wider.

“There we go. Feeling better?”

Rhys breathed evenly, resting his cheek against Jack’s cupped palm. His eyebrows twitched together, knitting in a gentle frown. 

“My skates…”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. Didn’t see ‘em. We can go out and look for them tomorrow when the snow’s stopped, I guess” Jack muttered, his eyes shifting furtively. Rhys looked up at him, eyes a little less glassy than before.

Jack worried his lip. Now that the adrenaline of his heroic rescue had long passed, the guilt was settling back in. He rocked back on his butt, running his hand through the air, the other trapped underneath Rhys’ cheek.

“Sorry. By the way. Can’t help but…” Jack took a deep breath. “…think this was all ‘cause of _me_.”

“Jack…” Rhys started, raising his head a little. “I think…”

The sound of the whistling kettle suddenly filled the room. Jack bolted up, skittering off to the kitchen to fill the hot water bottles.

By the time he returned, Rhys had sat himself up slight, his head resting up against the arm of the couch. He watched Jack with that weird expression he had when he sat right on the edge of cracking the secret to a difficult project. Those eyes that seemed older than they should be, off-set by the slight jut of his lower lip.

“Heh, all right, got some piping hot stuff here, destination—Rhysie’s pits.” Jack joked nervously, fingers peeling away the blankets wrapped about Rhys’ body to tuck them beneath his arms. His fingers brushed against Rhys’ sternum, rewarded with encouraging warmth. Jack pulled the blankets back over his boyfriend’s body, standing next to the couch. He rubbed his hands together, annoyed at the uncomfortable feeling in his belly.

Rhys was all warm now….now that he was safe inside, couldn’t he just go to sleep so Jack wouldn’t feel so bad?

“Y…You know…” Rhys murmured, shifting in his cocoon. “I really wanted to go skating…”

Jack winced.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, if I hadn’t been such a prick you wouldn’t have like, almost _died_.” Jack replied gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest in hope that he could squeeze this uncomfortable feeling up out of his throat or something.

“….M-maybe…” Rhys simpered, shifting slightly to turn his blanket nest towards Jack.

“But…I might have _definitely_ died if you hadn’t come to save me…” Jack perked up as Rhys managed a tiny smile.

“So….good job, _hero_.”

The guilty feeling inside of him spluttered in confusion. Jack had been expecting the literal cold shoulder, but Rhys seemed weirdly calm and forgiving for someone who had been a couple minutes away from freezing.

Still, he’d take it.

“Guess you’re right, I really _am_ a hero!” Jack proclaimed, smile beaming from cheek to rosy cheek. He bent over Rhys, bracing both hands against the arm of the couch as he towered over him.

“How’s about a kiss for your hero then, princess?” He puckered his lips, only to get Rhys’ still-clammy forehead instead of his lips.

“I’m gonna need to be warmed up a little more before your quest is quite over,” Rhys shimmied, loosening the blankets around his body. Jack quickly picked up on the hint, untucking one side of Rhys’ cocoon and carefully sliding alongside his boyfriend. His snaked his arm over Rhys’ chest, adjusting the hot water bottles before settling his hand on his waist. Rhys’ half naked body shifted slightly to give him room, Jack’s clothed crotch rubbing up against Rhys’ bare leg as his own sweaters-less torso hugged around his boyfriend’s form. His skin was still slightly clammy and damp from the snow, but Jack could feel his body heat recovering as they snuggled underneath the blankets.

“You know…internet says mild to moderate hypothermia can be treated by warming up the groin…”

“J-Jack’…” Rhys puffed, breath chattering. “L-Lemme…defrost a little more first…”

“Shh, kiddo. Just a joke.” Jack kissed Rhys’ cheek, noting with thanks that the slight tinge of pink had returned.

“…Say, I remember you saying something about hot chocolate…”

Jack pecked Rhys’ lips shut.

“Shh. Cuddles first. Then I promise.”

The snowstorm howled outside, lashing the windows with sleet and probably blocking the roads and half-burying Jack’s BMW. Hell, a storm of this magnitude could probably end up knocking out the main power and forcing the chalet to use the backup. But the world outside the walls of the house, as dangerous as it could be, seemed largely irrelevant as Jack cuddled in next to Rhys and shared his warmth.

Before he drifted off to sleep, head resting on the shoulder of his already snoozing boyfriend, he added “new ice skates” to his mental shopping list.


End file.
